


Plus-One

by luffywhatelse



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist Manga, Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Ed x Winry, EdxWin, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Party, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist Manga, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Romance, fma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22616374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luffywhatelse/pseuds/luffywhatelse
Summary: There are people with whom there's an inexplicable and instantaneous connection: a look, a joke, a curious and unequivocal way of reaching out towards each other.That kind of thing sticks with you. And without fully formulating it in your thoughts, you feel it in your skin, in your bones, you know that he's talking to everyone but he only looks at you, and that his non-verbal language whispers that yes, something is triggered between you two.It's impossible to explain in simple terms - probably it's a selective, epidermal affinity, which floats in the air in the form of complementary atoms - as he would say -, but it happens.Winry Rockbell knows that it happened to her several times throughout her young life, but always with the same person.That evening is one of those times, at a too boring birthday party to which Ed was invited and asked her to be his date. As a friend, of course.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Comments: 9
Kudos: 41





	Plus-One

There are people with whom there's an inexplicable and instantaneous connection: a look, a joke, a curious and unequivocal way of reaching out towards each other.

That kind of thing sticks with you. And without fully formulating it in your thoughts, you feel it in your skin, in your bones, you know that he's talking to everyone but he only looks at you, and that his non-verbal language whispers that yes, something is triggered between you two.

It's impossible to explain in simple terms - probably it's a selective, epidermal affinity, which floats in the air in the form of complementary atoms - as he would say -, but it happens.

Winry Rockbell knows that it happened to her several times throughout her young life, but always with the same person.

That evening is one of those times, at a too boring birthday party to which Ed was invited and asked her to be his date. As a friend, of course.

Sometimes she still wonders what, about him, had attracted her attention at first and what had brought them closer that evening. Perhaps it was his awkward posture - the hands sunk in his pockets like they were something cumbersome to hide - or the fact that, although he smiled at the guests who introduced themselves to him, Ed seemed alien to all those fusses.

Exactly like her.

Winry never could stand the ridiculous and formal rituals of forced socialization, the enthusiasm that smelled of hypocrisy a mile away, or even being all dressed out for a simple birthday party, regardless of whether the birthday boy had invited soldiers in uniform like Ed to celebrate himself. Not to mention the women laden with jewels and clothes to avoid stares and venomous whispers.

She, a young automail mechanic who found high heels annoyingly uncomfortable and would gladly have gone to the party wearing cargo pants and a t-shirt, felt an instant empathy with Ed - who in turn seemed uncomfortable in his impeccably elegant suit - and with his gaze that ran from face to face without lingering too much, but which was clearly absent, directed to unpleasant thoughts perhaps recalled by the uniforms.

When they got closer, however, Ed changed his attitude, and Winry was instantly sure that the evening would turn out to be more interesting, from then on.

She wasn't wrong.

Two minutes later, in his company, time began to flow in an absurdly fast and funny way: the usual complicity with him blossomed naturally, without effort, and for hours they've been chatting, pushing themselves playfully and laughing noisily without any awkward silence, as it's obvious between two people who have known each other forever. The fact is that they're not used to spend so much time talking to each other, alone. _Without even bickering_.

"But look at you, you're all dressed up for this party," Winry says suddenly, remembering how he used to present himself to his former colleagues not even a year earlier: leather pants, red coat and boots. "I could say that you've definitely learned how to dress."

Ed was sipping champagne from a flute and istantantly jerks "WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSE TO MEAN?" A grimace of disappointment on his face, he sets the glass down and sits down with his legs splayed.

"I didn't mean that it doesn't suit you" she sits by his side.

"Do you like this party?" Ed asks changing the subject.

"Actually I would have preferred to have a beer together, you know," replies Winry touching her own cheek thoughtfully. "And there's no comparison for me between this dress and a pair of jeans."

"Ha. Tell me about it. Can't l wait to get myself out of this stupid suit,” he tells her.

“For what it’s worth, I think you look very nice," she nods.

He blushes and immediately looks away from her, maybe hoping she won't notice.

"Really?" he asks. She never thought of him as particularly shy; maybe just a bit guarded.

"Mh mh," she confirms.

"Thank you,” he mumbles still staring at the other side of the room, “You don’t look bad yourself.” His cheeks are purple with blushing.

"Yeah, well... maybe," she murmurs, beginning to feel acutely uncomfortable. Her heart beats fast against her ribs as she fumbles up something to say.

But Winry knows he’s just being nice. 

Especially because he knows she has readjusted her dress and hairstyle several times before leaving home. She was quite nervous and, moreover, she couldn't help but think of him elegantly dressed for their _date_.

When she was younger, she happened to imagine him even in uniform, even though she could never see him that way, since Ed refused to wear it. The teenager Winry still didn't have those instincts about him - those feelings would come later, as soon as she realized that she had always been in love with him - but in her lack of experience, she had often thought of Ed _that_ way. 

And then of course, she would have sincerely done everything for him.

Perhaps this might sound sappy but it just seemed right, natural, to her.

They freeze and remain silent for a minute before she hears the music change. It almost sounds cathartic, like she really needed that to just let it all out.

Because Winry loves Edward, plain and simple. And when it comes to love, there's no sharp boundary line between black and white, right and wrong, between what's innocent and what is not, between sanity and madness, connecting two impulses to give life to a new different, unique energy.

People never seem to fully understand it.

Other girls are so flat and monochromatic, they're full of expectations, perfect ideals, and many beautiful words that they would like to hear and that make them melt at the only thought. They have a narrow view of the world and ignore what's a real beautiful connection between two people, so rich in all the aspects. Primordial, free, full of lights and shadows, self-destructive... and, somehow, sexy.

"But I understand how annoying it is to dress like this and come to parties like this, so I want you to know that you can still count on me in case there are other parties. At least there will be two people to suffer together," she explains simply, without any trace of doubt, as if everything has already been decided.

Ed seemed impressed and his smile turns into an amused laugh at that quiet determination. He places his elbows on the back and Winry can't help but think that, when he's so cheerful and relaxed, he's really handsome.

She can't decide if his is a bold, objective beauty, one of those that make your knees tremble and your heartbeat go crazy or is something more tender, shy, evanescent, because Ed hasn't always been as happy as he is now. She has not forgotten the look he had just a few minutes ago: the heavy look of someone who thinks of something sad and distant.

"It sounds like you know what you're talking about" he raises his eyebrows quickly and smiles.

"Oh, you can bet on it. I'm serious."

Ed chuckles and looks her straight in the eye "It would be a pleasure if you came with me..."

Winry opens her eyes in shock.

The Edward who has just appeared before her is different from the one she knows. 

Same voice but different tone, that same face that she has the urge to slap but, in the meantime, he's staring at her with a penetrating gaze. It wasn't the first time his expression suddenly changed giving her a taste of another side of his personality. It had happened the night before the Promised Day and, even before, in Central when he looked so grown up, with broader and stronger shoulders. But she had never seen this face before. His body is bent forward, leans towards her and, from her perspective, his eyes seem even bigger; she can see the glimmer of a smile even if he doesn't show his teeth.

But it was just a moment. Now Ed is himself again, and he almost seems worried he has scared her or has gone too far, and then backs off even with his body.

"I'm just saying..." now he looks inexplicably a little uncomfortable and changes the subject while rummaging in his pockets. 

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, of course," he exhales, "Maybe I'm just a little tired," he adds, lowering his voice of an octave. His shoulders are set in a slightly hunched posture.

Winry puts her hand on his arm as if to console him. Then Ed dips his head forward, gently runs his fingers through his hair and his tongue on his lips and smiles to her as if to reassure her and not make her worry. She doesn't know if it's just her imagination, but suddenly she's pretty sure to see that expression on his face again. With dismay and excitement together, he realizes that Ed is doing it in a natural and completely unconscious way.

He's not doing it on purpose to amaze her, she's sure about this: it's still Ed. Even if, every now and then, he seems to realize he's acting weird.

"I didn't get enough sleep," he scratches his jaw and shrugs.

"I didn't expect to see you tonight, Fullmetal," says an all-too-familiar voice all of a sudden. It was the Führer, Roy Mustang. 

And the woman standing beside him was the blonde and breathtaking Riza Hawkeye. Her hair is fluffed out at the ends. A soft, simple black dress with a low neckline clung to a womanly figure. Slim, long legs in sheer stockings and black shoes with towering heels. She wears her dress with a becoming sureness and walks on the high heels as if she has worn them all her life.

So Winry walks over to her to say hello. 

Her eyes go from Riza's face to Ed. He's shining. Practically beaming. She knows he's struggled in the past years, but she has done anything to help him.

He's made a lot of friends in that room.

He's had a profound impact on all of them, even if he'd never tell her this himself.

Ed raises a glass, and Fuhrer Mustang and Hawkeye toast.

A smile rises up from nowhere. Something he's always been able to conjure in her.

"So, how are things going between you and Edward?" Riza asks.

Winry laughs, "I'm having a great time with him tonight. He's been surprisingly a perfect gentleman."

"I'm not surprised," Riza murmurs. "Edward is one of the good guys."

Winry agrees. "I think so, too." She's looking at him from a distance when a group of women walks next to him. They're likely in their 20s.

A waiter walks around Ed and Mustang and asks whether they want some wine. 

So Roy says, "Sure, I'll take some white wine." And then he asks "Do you prefer red or white?"

“I have no preference,” Ed says.

The girls start laughing, and Winry turns and looks at them. They meet Ed’s eyes and continue laughing like he’s just said the funniest thing in the world.

_Whoa. They're into him_ \- she thinks.

He turns back to the glasses and selects one. One of the women tosses her hair and looks at him. She's preening, adjusting her clothing, another one is tossing her hair, licking her lips. _"He's Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist!"_ they say. Winry catches a glimpse of one of them applying lipgloss.

She knows Ed is a good-looking man. 

Actually, he looks like a Xerxesian God   
without his shirt on. He smells amazing and, now, he has learned to dress well.

When you go out with someone objectively attractive, other people flirting or otherwise expressing interest in your "dating" (if we can call it that) is part of what you sign up for. Of course, as a woman, Winry understands the non-verbal cues women put off when they are attracted to someone.

She, at that moment, finds herself alone - Hawkeye's attention has been drawn to some military colleagues - and is suddenly startled by a man who has approached her unnoticed, slurring his words, stuttering:

"May I have this dance, princess?"

There is a heavy smell of wine on the man's breath as he stands, swaying, waiting for an answer. 

Winry promptly and kindly responds, "No thank you, I don't dance."

But her refusal doesn't dissuade the man, "Oh come on, just a little dance. I promise you I won't bite," he slurs, mumbling his words, taking hold of Winry's wrist.

She resists, freeing her wrist, and notices out of the corner of her eye Ed hurrying rapidly in their direction.

He quickly rushes up to the stranger putting his right arm around Winry's waist.

"She's with me," he says with an air of possessiveness. "Stay away from her." Ed shots him a threatening look and that's enough to scare him off.

He stands there looking gorgeous, still angry and slightly tipsy, looking like he's filled with rage when you feel pleased with yourself like you've just won ten arguments but you'd be just delighted to have another. 

She smiles, embarrassed but flattered. His hand is still around her waist. 

Then he says at one go: "I don't like other men looking at you."

_Did he really say what I think?_ \- Winry asks herself - _I can't believe my ears! This guy sometimes says amazing things_.

"That bald bastard. He should be dead for touching Winry," he murmurs, like she was not there by his side.

"C'mon Ed, take it easy..."

"No. I can't," he replies.

"Sorry, what...?" she asks.

"There are always other men looking. I see their eyes when they look at you. Will she? That's what they're thinking," he says, looking more like a pouting child than an adult.

_Why doesn't he just admit what's in his heart?_ She would laugh straight out. Probably hysterically.

"Be quiet," she whispers between her teeth, and he looks at her, frowning.

"What?"

"You heard me," she repeats, walking closer until she's just in front of him, so he has to bend his head to be able to look in her eyes. "I asked you to be quiet."

"Asked?" He snorts. "You ordered me to be quiet."

She pokes a finger hard on his chest and has the pleasure of seeing him wince, "Hey, you were ignoring me while you were talking with Mustang and _those girls_!"

He stares at her, openmouthed. Then he adds "I certainly have no desire to look at those girls!" he retorts impulsively, "It's just that I can't stand not knowing where you are and what you're doing because I know those men! I heard them all my life..." and then he adds in a low voice, "The way they looked at women in dirty magazines..."

"Shush!" she yells, shoving him hard enough that he almost falls backwards. "Please, just be quiet for once. This time it's _you_ who has to listen to _me_ , whether you like it or not."

She puts her thumb in front of his nose.

He frowns at her and opens his mouth to say something, and unmerciful she holds up her index finger, pointing it at him.

"One: yes I'm very much aware of how men think and what they want. But I don't care about it, and never have. Actually, to be completely honest with you, I know some of them are looking at me but it's not my fault men consider me attractive. I haven't forced them to stand there gawking at me."

She sees him blush slightly.

"Two: I'm here with you. _You_ , Edward Elric. Not any other man. _You_."

She takes a step away from him, too tired to keep feeding the fire inside her. "I don't know why you care so much since you weren't even close to me. What's really going on?"

"It's not that I care _so much_! You're with me tonight and that's it, I have to watch over you! I'd have preferred to be alone and not have to worry about you."

"Good," she takes another step back feeling angrier than she ever has before. Or than she ever has let herself feel before. 

But this is Ed.

It had always been like this. But now something inside her just snapped.

Her breast heaves as she watches him stand up without once letting his glaring eyes leave her person.

"I'm going out a while..." she says then, heading for the balcony. 

She slips throught the open doors, stepping onto the stone terrace, the breeze blowing the skirt of her dress. There's a slight chill in the air, the sky clear, the stars shining down, the moon full. 

With a hand to her shoulder, he stops her and forces her to meet his gaze, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

"It's not that. I'm glad you spoke honestly."

He sighs. "C'mon, Winry, it's not like tha-"

"I don't want to talk about it." She continues on out on the balcony.

Ed throws his hands up in frustration and trots after her, "I want to talk about it."

"So that means we have to?"

"Yes, that's exactly what it means."

"You're a little too used to getting your own way all the time."

"Yeah, right. That's the story of my life. I suppose the years of nonstop hard knocks from just about everything is a sign that I get my way all the time. Or of course the fact that I didn't even want to come at this party and I'm still here is another sign. That's exactly what I want."

"Don't forget those girls making the googly eyes at you that you didn't like very much."

"Uh? What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm not coming back as your plus one. Now you don't have to worry about me."

She grew up next door to two boys. In the afternoons she’d climb up on their tree standing on her tiptoes and reaching them over. No one stuck around for her turn to climb the tree. When she played with them there was shrieking, jumping and bloody knees. She's never been a girl in his eyes, after all.

Ed looks so stunned by her sharp words that he has no idea how to respond. "Is that what you think I want?"

"It's what you said just a few minutes ago," she reminds him.

She's now moving so fast away from him, he has to jog to catch up to her. When he does, he takes her by the shoulder again. 

He looks kind of bummed that after all the time they've spent together, the closeness they've shared, she flinches as the unexpected hand lands on her shoulder. 

"Stop, will you?" Softening his tone, Ed says, "Please, just stop."

As a couple walks by them, glasses of wine in hand, they cast a curious glance their way before continuing on.

"You're making a scene," Winry says, shrugging off his hand.

"You want me to make a scene?"

"No," she says, "what I want is for you to admit the truth - that your first thought upon seeing that stranger approaching me is to worry about me because you care about me, and not that you have to protect me not to look bad in front of other people! That's not like you and I don't need it!"

"Of course that was my first thought! You're my friend. One of my oldest friends. I want you to be safe!"

"Good! I'm safe! Now leave me alone for a while."

"You're driving me crazy." He takes her hand and drags her off to a dark corner away from prying eyes.

"Let me go, Ed."

"Not until you listen to me."

He takes a step closer to her, nailing her with his golden eyes, but she doesn't mind. Because all she can do is stare at his lips. Those lips that are waking emotions inside her that she hadn't known she was able to feel.

"I've heard everything I need to hear."

"No, you haven't." He grabs her by the shoulders, forcing her to meet his gaze.

His fingers are warm against her skin and they're so close that she can see the golden flecks in his amber eyes, which are fixed on her mouth. She licks her lips, her pulse beginning to skip.

She looks away. "Yes." Damn, he looks even more good-looking up close.

"No!"

"I told you I did."

"Winry!" he blurts out.

"You don't listen to me either."

He glares at her angrily. "Yes, I do."

"No, you don't," she snorts and he takes another step closer to her, and her head goes back so she can look into his eyes.

Or at his very kissable lips.

The chemistry and the powerful attraction she felt for Ed the whole evening, like soft background music, suddenly seem irrepressible - like someone's turned the volume right up.

She feels as if touching his skin could absurdly explain if the attraction she feels is for him or for the strange - tempter - attitude he has assumed. She knows well that, rationally, it's absurd to have read something like that in Edward's eyes and that surely she made it all up, yet she can't help but think that it really happened.

She admires the details of his face, looking for something else other than wide golden eyes and slightly parted lips - is she making that up too? - and suddenly feels rationality abandoning her.

Realizing it, is electrifying but at the same time destabilizing because she feels defenseless. She doesn't even knows if she's showing him the adoring face of someone who desperately wants to be kissed or if she's just stupidly staring at him.

In fact, he too seems pretty lost: he just tilts his head to the right, as if he could not help feeling intrigued by something he hasn't figured out yet.

He leans into her a bit more, as though they share a secret. "You're crazy. No wonder you've whipped everyone into a frenzy."

"Who? Me?"

"You know the effect you have. I saw you in the ballroom."

"And what did you see?" She asks looking up at him into his narrowed eyes.

He pauses just for a second, making eye contact with her. 

Winry looks at his opened lips and sees them quiver.

"You."

Her heartbeat quickens.

"Just you." His voice is barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of the wind.

She feels him taking a deep breath, his hands catches her behind the neck and then, tipping his head, he swoops straight on her lips, pressing his mouth down to hers, firmly.

And their lips lock.

It's almost as if he doesn't know how to properly do it. His mouth is hard on hers, unyielding; then he puts both arms around her and pulls her against him. 

She keeps her mouth shut for only a second but then she gives into her own desire and her lips soften.

Winry can feel the rapid beat of his heart, taste the sweetness of champagne still on his mouth. Her heart is hammering in her chest. Her legs are shaking, and she can smell the perfume he's wearing.

He holds her into his arms just for six seconds - six electrifying seconds.

But then he softens his lips and raises his head to find her eyes. 

With an anxious look, he takes a step back. "I'm sorry," he says.

She frowns, confused. His honest and silent admission has gone straight to her heart. And she wants to be as honest with him.

Winry doesn't want that strange atmosphere to die away. She has a growing paranoia, a desire to do something without knowing what.

"I'm not sorry," she trivially drops after a while, feeling stupid.

She wants to touch him again.

His hands. His face. Hair.

Lips.

She puts a hand against his chest, feeling his heart beat faster under her palm. "Do you want me?"

He takes a step backwards, as if he wants to escape from her. "W-what?"

"Do you want me?"

"Want you?" He shakes his head taking exception to her question. "What do you mean?"

"Me. Do you want _me_?"

Her intense behaviour seems to make him a bit distraught, and he takes another step back, bumping into a flowerpot on the floor. "W-Winry..."

"Do you want to... kiss me again?" she blushed but has the satisfaction of watching him blush again too.

"Eh... I... uh..."

"It's a simple question. You've already done it. Do you or don't you want to kiss me?"

He draws his fingers through his hair. "O-of course I-I want to kiss you."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to kiss me?"

He chuckles nervously. "B-because you ask...?"

"Is it so? Just because I ask?" she looks at him in disbelief.

His eyes narrow, "I don't know! Don't do that girl thing where whatever I say is wrong!"

"That's not it! Tell me why," she explains trying to stay calm.

"Because I liked it!" he finally exclaims. "...I dare any man to say he wouldn't like it."

"But you're not _every man_."

"No, indeed," he answers proudly.

She nods. "So, do you?"

He frowns. "Do I what?"

"Want to kiss me?"

His blush intensifies. "Yes."

"You do?"

He nods nervously. "I do. Sorry."

"For what?"

"For wanting to kiss you."

She can't stop a smile. "I don't mind. As a matter of fact I like the thought of you wanting to kiss me. It makes it a bit easier, you know."

His golden eyes narrow. "What is easier?"

"Asking you to kiss me."

He visibly freezes. And she grasps the moment she is given and puts her arms around his waist, pressing her body against his.

"Edward Elric, would you please kiss me?"

She doesn't have to ask him twice. With a growl, he grasps the back of her head with his hands and does what he has wanted for quite some time.

All the feelings he has awakened inside her just a few minutes earlier come back with a rush and she loses her ability to breathe. She latches onto his shoulders, kissing him back with all the flaring emotions he creates in her.

It's strange and different from anything they have ever had together and Winry realizes it with every fragment of air they steal from each other.

It's a frantic, impetuous seek for each other, which becomes occasionally shy, slow, forcedly controlled.

It has no stability, nor an apparent reason other than to define the affinity that has upset their synapses all evening, to condense the uncertainties of an entire life and turn them into something good and tangible, giving them a meaning.

Again and again he plays with her lips and her tongue, and not until she feels close to fainting does he lifts his head and ends the kiss.

She moans, disappointed, and a little light starts to shine inside his golden eyes. A light fired by the knowledge that she wants him too.

"Yes, I want you," he whispers into her mouth as he again demands her lips against his. Her hands slide up around his neck to hold his head. Without words, she forces him to deepen the kiss until they both moan with the need of each other.

But, suddenly, a male voice in the distance breaks through their dazed minds:

"Edward!"

And they hardly have time to let go of each other before Master Sergeant Fury approaches.

Winry bites her lips - one hand through her blonde hair - and stares at Ed.

He - just as she expected - has a dazed expression on his face that says, _what should we do now?_ Once they've been interrupted, it somehow seems to have become even more embarrassing.

She sighs, straightening her hair.

"Hey, Ed..." he says, quite unaware of the emotional situation he's interrupted. "You promised to join our table in the gambling room!"

"Damn," Ed says between his teeth. "I had forgotten all about that..."

The alchemist looks at Winry and their eyes lock. They stare at each other longer than is polite with a person there waiting for an answer. 

"But I think it's time to leave..." he says turning to Fury again. "You want to go home?" Ed mutters trying to look Winry in the face.

Their eyes meet and he looks away embarrassed not knowing what to do.

"Ah! I mean... yes, I..." Winry would like to extend that brief moment as much as possible, "We were leaving!" she says.

Edward nods, almost surprised, "Yep." Gaining confidence, he wrap his arm around Winry's waist. "Sorry, Kain, but that's for another time!" His grip tighten around her. There's something else he can't put off any longer.

"Sure, don't worry!"

Now she knows exactly who they are: he's not a different Ed than he once was, and she's not a different Winry.

They're what _Ed and Winry_ were meant to be.

She wants to preserve that moment, that slice of time when the night is cool and bright under the moonlight. 

Every event in her life would be different. Because Ed has kissed her.


End file.
